One Last Advil

One Last Advil

         I am a mere shell of the human condition. Days long with frustration, fraught with anger and bitterness. Manic nights stretching until the lamps burn out with my loneliness crushing emotions worthy of time. Staring out the window, through slit shades to perceive a sky blanketed with pitch black forever. The thought of me being truly alive is illusory. I’m no more human or real then the most fantastic of creatures. Eyes once bright, dancing upon the faces of strangers, now glazed over with hate, burning intensely. Hands meant for comfort and safety, caked over with blood of the faceless many. For my crimes, I pay nothing, my sins eternal. My heart has been forever broken, shattered upon the ground, shards of ice beckoning to memories of love and belonging. I turn to view my newest piece, a true stunning display of elegance without being overbearing in the fact of its perfection. It’s a shame none will witness this masterpiece, not meant for the eyes of the pure. Rising from my deep reflections, I gather the tarp next to my armoire to place gently over the scene represented. Seconds pass quickly as the tarp begins its waltz to encompass it, saving me from the true guilt of this, seeing what I’ve done.